


Diplomacy

by smuttyandabsurd



Series: Perv Series [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Short, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyandabsurd/pseuds/smuttyandabsurd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Yao struggle to define their new relationship status in the current political climate.</p><p>England/China.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> Entry for Day 9 of the 30 Days Of Writing A Drabble A Day Challenge.
> 
> This ficlet was supposed to be something cleverly relevant to [this](http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-13919917) (bilateral trade treaties, human rights concerns, all the good stuff, y’know), but then it fell way short of the mark, and oh let’s just have a bit of porn.

Arthur had scheduled a wake-up call for a quarter to seven, but he found he much preferred the surprise oral Yao was administering to him right now. The sounds those lips and tongue made as they worshipped his cock were wet and deliberately lewd, and Arthur soon peaked with a delicious shudder as an orgasm washed over him.

The moans that turn into deep, throaty purrs as he moved _just right_ ; the sighs that fall from red, red lips as he re-visited the kiss-bitten marks he had left on him the night before – Yao demanded all of Arthur with seductive little tricks that Arthur found all too easy to give in to. He came once more inside of Yao with a low, sated groan as Yao sighed his name in pleasure, their lips coming together for a sloppy kiss.

It was nearly eight when Arthur finally tumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He did not object to Yao intercepting him for another round in the shower, and once more afterwards over the marble sink, lithe legs wrapped firmly around Arthur’s waist as nails clawed fresh marks into Arthur’s back and mouth teethed new bruises into Arthur’s shoulder.

Breakfast was brought up at around twenty to nine, and Yao in his too-big bathrobe looked the picture of innocence as he tucked into toast and scrambled eggs, ignoring Arthur who was wincing his way into his newly laundered shirt. Arthur was certain that he was bleeding from the way his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his back, and he was quite irritated when he finally sat down to eat.

“What is this?” he asked a little crossly as he spotted a box on his plate.

“A gift,” Yao said. He smiled. “Open it.”

Arthur picked it up with a frown. It was an expensive-looking box. He pulled off the ribbon and pried it open to find that it contained a silver watch. He stared at it for a moment, then glanced up.

“I can’t accept this.”

Yao’s lips twitched up at the corners. He set down his tea cup and reached over the table to pull the watch out of its velvet cushion. Without prompt, Arthur lifted his hand and allowed Yao to fasten it around his wrist. The silver links bit a little into his skin as the clasp snapped close.

“I think it looks lovely on you,” Yao said as he inspected his gift around Arthur’s wrist.

Those large golden eyes fixed suddenly to Arthur’s in a wistful expression. He was suddenly reminded of a time long, long ago, when he had breathed those same words into the shell of Yao’s flushed ear as he slipped some cheap ornament onto him. It was usually something feminine, something pretty; a brooch, perhaps, or a hair slide, something with which to claim him. Looking into Yao’s eyes, he could see that the watch was being given to him with the same possessive sentiment.

He pulled back his hand.

“Thank you, but I cannot accept this,” he said again, unclasping the watch and dropping it back into the box.

Yao’s smile slowly faded as he sat back in his chair. His robe slipped down from one of his shoulders, exposing traces of their lovemaking left on his light golden skin, but there was no sign of the flirtatious vixen from earlier in the morning. Somehow, in the way he carried himself without the slightest bit of humour, he had transformed into the proud, powerful nation who commanded the world’s fastest growing economy, just as everyone else saw him.

“Keep it anyway,” Yao said softly.

Arthur found he could not quite meet his gaze. He made a noncommittal noise as he forked some eggs into his mouth to save from having to answer.

They were finally dressed and ready in the hotel lobby by a little past nine. Arthur fidgeted on the spot and kept adjusting his shirt collar, afraid that somebody might see the bruises on his neck. Yao ignored him for the most part as he answered calls on his smartphone in his sharp, biting language. He glanced repeatedly at his watch, and Arthur noticed with a strange flip of his stomach that it was a gold version of the one he had been given.

When all of the Chinese delegates have arrived and cabs to the airport were ordered, Yao finally turned his attention back to Arthur.

“Thank you for your hospitality. We were delighted with such a favourable reception from the United Kingdom,” he said for all the delegates, falling back on polite business talk.

 _Well, two can play the same game_.

“Not at all. We are very anxious to keep good relations with China.”

Yao’s lips twitched once more into a strange half-smile. His eyes dropped a little as he said, “Yes, of course.”

There was a moment when Arthur felt he should do something to salvage the visit. He fantasised grabbing Yao and kissing him passionately right then and there, or… or taking his hand, and kissing the back of it to assure Yao of his most ardent love. But the moment passed just as quickly as it had seized him. In the end, they parted on a stiff handshake that was all business.

“Take care,” Arthur said, a little lamely, before they could whisk Yao away from him to the Rolls Royce waiting outside.


End file.
